


Knots

by Rhadamantelope



Category: Borderlands
Genre: M/M, PA AU, Stress Relief, post-tftbl sorta, rhys gives the best massages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4487556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhadamantelope/pseuds/Rhadamantelope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys is a bit more observant than Jack gives him credit for. Though Jack's mannerisms don't really leave much to be interpreted at all, really. (It's more a matter of acting on those observations, I guess)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knots

**Author's Note:**

> an anon on tumblr sent me Rhys/Jack for a ship survey prompt and one of the questions was something along the lines of "Which one gives the other backrubs?" and, well. this idea wouldn't leave my head. (Also I don't know what sort of continuity this is?? I was thinking post-tftbl, Jack somehow comes back and makes Rhys his PA but it would also make sense if it were in a verse where Jack didn't die in the first place idk.)

Rhys had never been highly skilled in reading people. ECHO eye aside, he had struggled with ascertaining how those around him really felt, more often than not. Vaughn always gave him shit about it, but he had yet to figure out how to go about fixing the problem.

Handsome Jack, however, was a different story entirely. One might think that having a mask on 24/7 would restrict the spectrum of emotions Jack could display, but Rhys quickly found that to be completely wrong. Jack made it entirely clear how he felt, verbally and visually, which made Rhys’s job easier, if only by a margin. It also made it difficult for Jack to keep very much from his personal assistant. (Rhys tried his hardest not to consider that with any hint of triumph, but it still brought a smug smile to his face anyway.)

And, contrary to his flippant and passive attitude towards his work--the attitude that most people, Hyperion employees and Pandorans alike, were used to--Handsome Jack was constantly stressed. Granted, it was hard to tell if the stress stemmed from his actual work or something else, but Rhys found it very apparent and was unsure of whether anyone else noticed or if they avoided mentioning it for fear of leaving Jack’s office with a broken nose and ringing eardrums. To be quite honest, Rhys was a little bit wary of that himself despite knowing deep down that Jack wouldn’t dare injure his best resource for public relations. Most likely.

But still he worried, every so often. Jack got so infuriated with the sales associates sometimes, growling from his desk, grabbing at his hair and slamming his computer shut abruptly.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” he’d snarl to no one in particular, ripping up a stack of papers that Rhys hoped weren’t important. He would return to his work soon enough, albeit begrudgingly, and keep at it until...well, Rhys wasn’t exactly sure how late Jack worked some nights. He typically left before Jack on Mondays and Thursdays and Jack was either leaning over his computer or tossing crumpled-up blueprints across his office with a frown when Rhys made his way out.

There were also the more physical effects of stress.

Rhys was more than used to getting headaches due to stress, even before he started working as Handsome Jack’s PA. He was accustomed to the headaches, the sleeplessness, the irritability...but not to the idea that _Handsome Jack_ of all people experienced the same things, for the same reasons no less. It was so apparent--Jack had a habit of groaning loudly and rubbing his temples--that Rhys could not help but ask if he was alright.

“Hangover,” Jack replied, rather unconvincingly. Rhys rolled his eyes behind his boss’s back, but didn’t argue. Jack was leaning over his desk, legs splayed and torso resting heavily on the desk’s flat mahogany top as he pored over plans for an updated design for one of Hyperion’s oldest gun models. He winced as he moved to straighten up, one hand moving to grip his lower back and the other rubbing his eyes.

“Jack, sir,” Rhys said cautiously.

“‘Sir’? Shit, kid, how many times’ve I told you not to fuckin’ call me that,” Jack muttered through clenched teeth. “What, what is it?”

“Are you, um...are you okay?”

Jack’s hand stilled on his face and suddenly dropped to his side. He squinted at Rhys.

“What?”

“Your back seems to be bothering you. Your, uh, your head too.”

Jack scoffed.

“Rough night, Rhysie. I already told you, I’ve got a friggin’ hangover. Nothing I can’t--ow--handle.”

Jack leaned back down with a soft hiss of pain. Rhys glared at him and cracked the knuckles of his flesh hand against the metal palm of his prosthetic. He stood up, a folder under one arm, and sauntered over to the CEO’s desk. He placed the folder next to Jack’s elbow and hesitantly gazed down at the blueprints over Jack’s shoulder before gingerly placing his robotic hand against his back. Jack paused for a minute, not giving Rhys so much as a backwards glance before asking:

“Well?”

Rhys pressed his fingertips harder into Jack’s back, just beneath the shoulderblade, and mirrored the action with his other hand. This went on for a few minutes before Rhys drew back. Jack turned to look at him.

“The fuck, kid? Why’d you stop?”

“I just…” Rhys licked his lips. “This is sort of an awkward position, I guess?”

Jack pushed himself off the desk with a groan and turned around to smirk at Rhys.

“What, with me bent over the desk? Would’ve thought you’d like that, cupcake.”

“Sh-shut up, go sit down on the sofa.”

Hands raised innocently, Jack trotted over to the couch on the other side of the office and, wincing, shrugged off his jacket. Rhys took a seat behind him and quickly pushed his fingers into Jack’s back, prodding at the tough knot under his shoulder.

“Yikes,” he murmured.

“Shut it,” Jack grunted. He closed his eyes as Rhys began to move his fingertips in little circular patterns along his back, pressing hard into the toned muscles beneath the layers of fabric. “Go lower.”

Rhys blushed a little at his request, but did as he was told. His hands moved slowly against Jack’s lower back, eliciting a low moan from the CEO. The noise only made Rhys’s face redder and hotter, and he was glad that Jack wasn’t facing him.

“Why are you always so stressed, anyway?” he asked quietly. Jack shrugged and leaned back into Rhys’s touch.

“Fucking...sales reps,” he sighed. “Can’t do their damn jobs correctly if it’d save their lives...and one day it might _have to_. And don’t even talk to me about the head engineers, good lord. You wanna make the Impact bulkier? Fine, but good luck getting it to function how it’s supposed to.”

Jack moaned as Rhys moved back up and pressed his thumbs hard underneath his shoulderblades. He sighed again.

“It would just be _nice_ if they could properly do the job I _hired them to do_ , you kn-owwww…” Jack shuddered as Rhys jabbed at the knotted muscle a bit harder. “Bbbbbut I guess that’s why I have you...eh, cupcake?”

Rhys laughed softly, and pressed the knuckles of his robotic hand at the base of Jack's neck, dragging them downwards. Jack arched slightly as the metal clicked against the bumps in his spine and leaned even more heavily into Rhys's hands. Rhys resisted the temptation to use the two inches he had on Jack to bend forward and rest his chin on the older man's shoulder.

His hands moved absently along his boss's back, still kneading slowly before Jack spoke again.

“What are you doing Friday, Rhysie?”

Rhys’s hands came to a halt.

“I...don’t know. Yvette and Vaughn might have something planned but I d--”

“Your schedule’s clear, then.”

An oppositional reply was stuck on the tip of Rhys’s tongue, but he closed his mouth before he could reply. Did Handsome Jack just...ask him out? He chuckled nervously.

“Keep rubbing, kiddo,” Jack said. “We’ll leave at seven on Friday.”

Rhys could only laugh as he placed his hands back on Handsome Jack’s broad shoulders.

“I wasn’t kidding, Rhys.”

“Oh. Um, seven it is, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope Jack was relatively in-character. First time writing him, or any Borderlands characters in general. feedback is much appreciated!!


End file.
